so! it's been a while, sorry for that! I hope everyone's Christmas has been lovely (if you celebrated) and that 2017 hasn't been TOO awful ;)
TW:
now, just to be clear: this contains mentions of PTSD, nightmares, panic attacks and disassociation. its not addressed in TOO much depth, but if that makes you in any way uncomfortable, be warned.
this is a bit of a filler chapter, in the sense that it's not action-heavy as such, but some of ur faves make an appearance/return so I hope u enjoy!
(I recently realised that this fic is now longer than HP Prisoner of Azkaban! can u believe that?!)
as always, drop a comment, I do love reading your thoughts!
Things were going to change.
And change they did.
The first night back in her own bed found her being shaken awake by Genma, sweat drenching her pyjamas and gasping for breath.
"Sakura!" Genma's voice cut through the delirium of her mind, and she blinked repeatedly to get rid of the afterimage of Tamaki's hateful sneer and bloodied hands reaching out towards her, till she could finally focus on the brunet's face.
"H-Huh?" she choked out, suddenly realising that her throat was unbearably sore. From screaming, she realised with a start.
The look in Genma's eyes softened and he perched on the edge of her bed. "D'you wanna talk about it?" he murmured, running a hand through his loose hair. When Sakura shook her head, no, he sighed. "It's about that mission, isn't it?" he asked instead.
She nodded before she could stop herself, then sighed and gave in. "I keep seeing his face. Talking to me. Blaming me. And the more I watch him die, over and over again, the more I struggle to differentiate between the dream and the real memories." She buried her face in her hands. "It's my fault, I know it is. It's just… it hurts so much more when it's him saying it." Back at the hospital, she'd had the luxury of a nurse who would come in the second she started screaming or thrashing in her sleep and administer a sedative, so the rest of the night would be spent in blissful darkness, no dreams to be had. But back at home, she had no such luxuries, and it was slowly starting to get to her.
Genma was silent for a moment, then Sakura felt the mattress dip and a warmth settle by her side, not quite touching, but near enough to draw comfort from. She risked a glance to the side and realised that Genma had propped himself up against her headboard, eyes staring ahead and back leaning against the multitude of pillows on her bed, with his arm resting on top of the headboard in a relaxed lounge.
"It's always difficult when your subconscious turns against you." He spoke at last. "But it's also normal. There are therapists and psychologists which could work through those dreams with you, help you compartmentalise and differentiate between dream and reality. I could go with you, if you want." While he'd been speaking, Sakura had slowly shuffled backwards and settled beside him.
"Would it… do you think it would help?" she asked at last. In the darkness of the room, she felt more than saw Genma's shrug.
"It helps a lot of people. It helped me. It's certainly the healthiest solution to nightmares." Then he sighed, suddenly sounding world-weary. "Every shinobi has their demons. Unfortunately, the missions you go on can have one of two effects on you; they can either feed the demons, make them peskier and more difficult to ignore, or they can desensitize you. Neither option is that great for your psyche or your sleep schedule, but at least there are ways of dealing with option one. The reason I suggested therapy is not because I think you mentally unstable, but because the earlier you learn how to deal with your demons in a healthy manner, the better it'll be for you in the long-run."
Somehow, the rosette found herself slumped against Genma, her eyelids heavy and a warmth that had nothing to do with her thick blanket nor the warm body next to her settling over her. She blinked herself awake and pondered over the brunet's words.
"I would like that." She conceded at last, stifling a yawn. "Thank you."
Then, suddenly curious and far too comfortable to worry whether she was breaking some unspoken pact, she voiced what had been on her mind for almost a week. "What did Kakashi say to you? When you left my hospital room?" she mumbled, face half-buried in Genma's shirt.
She felt more than heard him sigh, and a hand settled lightly on her head. "You should sleep. I'll tell you some other time."
But Sakura wasn't so tired as to miss a diversion as obvious as that, so she forced herself to sit up and blink blearily at the brunet, then poked him in the chest. "You and I both know that you have no intention of telling me if I let it go now." She accused, then when she saw him roll his eyes and smile, she settled back on her makeshift pillow and waited.
"He said you'd go dark." Genma said at last. Before Sakura could try and form the words to ask what on earth that meant, he clarified. "'Going dark' is a colloquialism for shinobi who stop caring. Who become detached from those around them, who take dangerous missions, who stop caring whether they live or die. Funny thing is, when I was younger, the people who were the personification of 'dark' were Anko and Hatake himself, so I have no idea what right he thinks he has to tell me that that's why he's 'concerned' for you. He can't even take care of himself, the idiot." Genma took a deep, steadying breath. "But that doesn't matter. It's not as if I'd let you just stop acting like a teenager all of a sudden."
Sakura hid her smile and tried to sound indignant. "'Let me'?" she parroted, though she knew that she sounded far more fond than cross.
To her amusement, Genma didn't try to back out and chuckled instead, lightly patting her head. "Well, yeah. We live under the same roof, in case you forgot. It's not like I wouldn't notice it, and if you think that I wouldn't drag you to a therapist the moment I did notice, then you clearly don't know me at all, kid."
Sakura smiled, reassured and relieved, and blindly reached up to pat Genma's head in return. "I'm glad. Thank you, Genma." Satisfied, she let her hand drop, closed her eyes and burrowed further into her makeshift pillow.
The last thing she registered was a quiet chuckle and gentle fingers carding through her hair before she drifted off.
She slept peacefully.
When she awoke in the morning, the sun was high in the sky and the bed beside her was cold. She stumbled out of her bedroom, rubbing at her eyes and noting with no small amount of surprise that it was well past ten o'clock and the house was strangely silent. Then, her eyes zeroed in on an envelope on the kitchen counter with her name on it, and a post-it note stuck to the fridge. She went to the note first –
'Sorry, kid, got called out on a mission this morning, should be back within a week though. I would've woken you up, but it looked like you needed the rest. Take care of yourself, and here's the address for the place I told you about last night: -xxxxxxxxxxxxx-'
Smiling wryly, Sakura folded up the note and placed it by the door, so she would remember to grab it on her way out, then moved towards the envelope. She almost squealed when she realised it was a response from Chōjūrō –
Dear Sakura-san,
I'm very happy you like my gift, and that you seem to be doing well for yourself. Thank you also for your faith in me – the reason for the extra delay to my reply was because I took part in the Jounin Exams – and I am pleased to announce that I passed. I am now officially a jounin of Kirigakure and Mei-sama's bodyguard.
A month of D-Ranks as punishment? I wonder what you did. Perhaps I'll hear it when we see each other again.
The scale of improvements in Kirigakure is incredible – since foreign merchants have been allowed in, and Kiri merchants are now free to trade with Konoha, our economy has improved at a rapid rate, and it is still improving. The people seem more hopeful, happier, and who knows, maybe this will help destroy the stereotypes and prejudice towards Konoha-nin in the future? We have clung to antiquated views for far too long.
I have already received my Konohagakure headband, sorry to disappoint you. I would also like to reassure you that you do not need to send me any 'presents' – your friendship is reward enough.
My birthday is on the 1st of November (it'll soon be my 16th birthday). My favourite colour is, perhaps surprisingly, not blue, but the deep, warm pink you sometimes see in sunsets. It's rare to see it in Kiri due to the weather, but whenever I do manage to see it, it makes me very happy, even though it's such a trivial thing. I don't really have a favourite food – I like anything, as long as it is not oily. I do like pocky as a snack though.
How about yourself? I know your birthday and your penchant for sweet things, but I do have to admit that I had been wondering about the slightly more personal things. I apologise for sounding so forward – you do not have to answer if you do not wish to.
All the best,
-Chōjūrō
Sakura couldn't help the dopey smile once she finished reading, though she forced herself to put the letter down and find some breakfast – she had only three hours left till she needed to be at the T&I office, and she planned to stop by the address Genma had indicated, but she wasn't even dressed yet!
After hurrying through breakfast and her usual routine, she was dressed and out the door fifteen minutes later, hair brushed into its standard ponytail with Chōjūrō's hairpin attached underneath and T&I uniform in place. It took her a few minutes to find the building, and she was rather surprised to note, once she did locate the street, that it was on the back of the T&I building, only it wasn't built of the same imposing grey cement and metal as her work, but painted a light green colour which somehow managed to blend perfectly into its surroundings. Upon entering, she discovered a receptionist sitting in the lobby, much the same as in T&I. The man regarded her with a bored expression, lazily flicking a pen between his fingers.
"G-good morning," Sakura greeted quietly, "I'd like-"
"Therapy, group sessions or counselling." The man cut her off rather rudely, "take your pick."
"U-uh, therapy, I guess." She replied, inwardly grateful Anko wasn't there to watch her stumble over herself lest she'd get a serious telling off.
"Do you have an appointment?"
Sakura blinked, momentarily thrown off. "Ah, no, I wasn't aware I needed-" she started to say, only to be cut off again.
"That's fine. What's your name?" the receptionist interrupted, and by now Sakura was starting to lose her shyness and get progressively more annoyed.
"Sakura Haruno." She bit out, only to stall when the receptionist's facial expression changed for the first time since she'd walked in; now it showed the mildest of interests she'd ever seen, and she'd dealt with Sasuke's microexpressions for over four years.
"Turns out you do have an appointment, Haruno." The receptionist announced, and Sakura had more than a slight inkling that she had Genma to thank for that. "Therapy, first floor, room 221B. Go wait outside the door, you're officially patient 24601."
Slightly stunned by that quick relay of information, Sakura obediently shuffled over to the stairs leading onto the first floor, absently pondering the logic of having room 221B on the first floor, then deciding that ninja, like all others, were allowed their eccentricities. She settled into one of the chairs in front of the room she was directed to and pulled out her latest genjutsu scroll, deciding she might as well pass the time productively. It seemed that just as she was getting into the interesting part of the theory, the door to her examination room opened, a tall, raven haired woman in a dress made of what seemed like bandages walking out with a shaky 'thanks' over her shoulder. She did a quick doubletake upon seeing Sakura, but when the rosette showed no sign of recognition, she shuffled past and out.
"Patient 24601?" a calm, deep voice called from inside the room, and Sakura managed to stuff her scroll into her pocket and step through the door before the silence that followed became too awkward. She took care to close the door behind her as she walked in, steeling her nerves, before she turned around.
"Good morning, thank you for ha- Yamanaka-san?" she trailed off, suddenly thrown by the sight of her childhood best friend's father wearing a lab coat thrown over the standard charcoal turtleneck.
"Sakura-chan?" he greeted, equally surprised, before he seemed to compose himself. "I thought I told you years ago that Inoichi-san is just fine." He added, with that same fatherly smile Sakura remembered from the many evenings she used to spend at Ino's before they fell out.
This time, instead of filling her with warmth, it merely served to make her slightly nauseous. "That would be highly unprofessional of me, seeing what I'm here for." She quipped, aiming for teasing but falling flat. Now that she was actually here, the flashbacks from the nightmares came back full force.
"Ah." And with that one syllable, Inoichi switched flawlessly from the fatherly-figure from her childhood to the reliable therapist Genma would've trusted. "What seems to be the problem?"
"I…" all of a sudden, she wasn't sure how to start. Bad dreams seemed so trivial when faced with a man who'd undoubtedly lived through the Third Shinobi War and remained unaffected enough to raise a daughter as radiant and full of life as Ino. "Um, I don't…"
"Sakura-chan," Inoichi smiled at her, reassuring this time. "I assure you, whatever troubles you, it's valid, and important, and there's no shame in sharing. Take your time."
So she took a deep breath and told him. She told him of her dreams, of her mission, beyond even what she'd told Genma, she told him of how her and Tamaki had gotten along, how they'd taken turns to talk about dreams and ambitions under the starry sky, how it was her fault he wouldn't get to live long enough to see those ambitions through because she didn't hear the enemy coming until it was too late and her teammate had sacrificed himself for her and now he was dead.
It wasn't until she felt a gentle hand settle on her shoulder that she realised she was hyperventilating and there were tears streaming out of her eyes and every other word was catching on a sob.
"Sakura-chan, Sakura-chan, ssh, it's alright." Inoichi shushed her quietly, his thumb rubbing circles into the tight muscle of her shoulder.
After she calmed down, he proceeded to explain that she was experiencing quite a tough case of Survivor's Guilt, and that the first step to dealing with it was acknowledging she had a problem, which she had already done, and he congratulated her for it. Inoichi continued by saying that she needed to talk openly about her time in the tunnels, and that he would recommend scheduling regular appointments until it eased. Then he suggested a support network, and followed with the words – "I hear you mentioned Anko; why don't you ask her how she's coping?" at which Sakura couldn't help but snort, regardless of the fact that it sounded absolutely disgusting with her nose clogged up after crying.
"No offense, Yamanaka-san, but senpai is hardly the type of person to talk about her feelings. I reckon she'd try to sic one of her snakes on me again." She told him shakily, at which he smiled, cerulean eyes twinkling with mirth.
"If she does, tell me, and I'll sic Ibiki on her." The idea of the fierce Intelligence Division Commander lecturing Anko about sharing her feelings made Sakura crack up, and it took her a few seconds to get her chuckles under control.
"Will do, Yamanaka-san. Thanks."
"Anytime, Sakura-chan. Now, do you have anyone at home to turn to in case the nightmares get particularly nasty between appointments?" Inoichi asked kindly, and Sakura couldn't help the wry smile.
"Yeah." She replied, nodding. "Genma. He's incredible and I honestly don't know how he deals with having a teenage girl in the house, but he's the best kaa-san ever. He's actually the one who suggested this to me."
Inoichi looked surprised for a few seconds, then his smile softened. "I'm not surprised. You probably know by now that he's very reliable, so don't be afraid to talk to him."
Sakura smiled and managed to force out a 'I'll try to', then Inoichi moved on to what she could do in between sessions – he set her breathing exercises, visualisation exercises, meditation and a multitude of grounding techniques to deal with the dreams, then recommended weekly meetings for the first month, which would then reduce to monthly if she was showing progress.
Finally, just as Sakura was about to leave, a bunch of leaflets and pamphlets and hand-written notes clutched in her hands, Inoichi stopped her. "Sakura-chan," when she turned around at the door, he smiled, although it looked slightly strained. "I'd like you to know I'm speaking as my daughter's father now, and not your therapist." Anxiety rolled in her stomach, absolutely certain she was going to get told off for her behaviour towards Ino. Sakura screwed her eyes shut, then – "Come to dinner at our house."
"H-huh?" the rosette gawked, making Inoichi chuckle.
"Dinner, Sakura-chan." He repeated. "Ino will be delighted to see you again, and I'm sure you'll be able to rekindle your friendship. You two used to be so close."
Sakura gulped, then considered. "Will anyone else be there?" she asked meekly.
"My wife, Shikaku and Chouza – their wives and sons. Shikaku told me you got quite close to his son on that mission to Kiri. It's just a little family gathering." Inoichi told her in what was meant to be a reassuring manner, but merely made her pale.
"Won't that make me an outsider?" she asked cautiously, not meaning to come off as rude.
Inoichi waved her off. "Nonsense, not if I invited you. Tomorrow, at six, assuming you're not called away on a mission. I'm sure you remember the way to our house?"
When she nodded, the blond beamed. "I'll see you tomorrow, Sakura-chan."
Taking that as the dismissal it was, Sakura walked out and shut the door behind her.
That same night, Sakura jolted awake in bed, her heart beating a wild staccato rhythm and sweating more than she sometimes did when she trained. Tamaki's face was a vivid picture in her mind, its accusatory glare by now so familiar but no less effective in making her loathe herself. The dream was different this time though, even worse than usual, and even though she'd already forced her eyes open, she kept whipping her head from side to side, seeing shapes that looked suspiciously like the Iwa-nin in her peripheral vision. It didn't matter that every time she focused on the shapes they turned out to be something innocuous like a lamp or a shirt draped over the back of her chair – in her rising panic, Sakura had already managed to work herself into a state of hyperventilation, and her vision was slowly growing blurry with tears and dark spots were creeping in from the corner of her eyes.
So she screwed her eyes shut, Inoichi's words echoing in her mind, and gave his recommended technique a try. Forcing herself to take a deep breath only to have it catch in her throat and turn into a whimper, she focused on her surroundings, prying her eyes open.
What can I see? There's my chair, my desk, the lamp, my scrolls, my teddy bear, I know this, this is my room, I can do this. What can I smell? I can smell… I can smell the katsudon I made for dinner, I can smell the lavender detergent Genma insists on using on the bedsheets, I can smell old paper from the scrolls and books. I can hear… I can hear the bar two blocks down playing some godawful bass music, I can hear the grandfather clock in the neighbour's room, I can hear the fuinjutsu sheets rustling in the slight draft. I can taste my toothpaste. And I can touch my blanket, much too thick for this time of year, but I'm too lazy to change it, besides, it'll get chilly again soon.
By the time she focused on her blanket, her breathing was back to steady and deep. Suddenly exhausted, she managed to push thoughts of Tamaki to the very back of her mind, but sleep still escaped her. After a few minutes of trying to fall asleep and failing, Sakura got up, changed into one of her shirts which she had no idea how they got to her wardrobe (she had an underlying suspicion that it actually belonged to Shikamaru and it got mixed up with her stuff when they were leaving Mist) and crept out of her bedroom into the living room. Flopping on the sofa, she switched on the small lamp by the armrest, dragged out one of her books on genjutsu from under the coffee table, and threw the throwblanket her and Genma always left on the sofa for this exact reason over herself. She didn't know how long she ended up reading for, but at some point she must've fallen asleep, as the next morning she woke up with her cheek smushed against the page and a nasty crick in her neck, but she was also surprisingly well-rested.
Well, 'well-rested' until she glanced at the clock and realised she had to be at the T&I office in fifteen minutes.
Her day at T&I was busy, Anko was extra-demanding and the paperwork she had to fill out made her eyes sting and her head throb, and it wasn't until she left the office that she realised she had an hour until she needed to be at the Yamanaka household and absolutely no idea what she was going to wear.
Anko noticed her distress when she was leaving and tugged at her ponytail. "Oi, kid, you alright? You look tense."
Sakura debated whether the potentially helpful response she might get was worth the months of teasing she was undoubtedly going to get, then sighed. "I'm going to the Yamanaka's for dinner and I have nothing to wear. I don't even know what I should wear." When her senpai merely smirked at her, Sakura scowled. "Can you help?"
The tokujo's smirk turned mischievous. "Are you actually asking your senpai for help? With fashion, no less?" Anko looked like a cat who'd caught the canary.
"Not fashion." The rosette corrected, glaring at the woman. "Just what sort of stuff I should wear – casual, ninja wear, formal, dresses – I have no idea. I've never been to one of these sort of dinners, especially not with three major Clan Heads present."
Anko grinned and linked her arm with Sakura's, throwing a cheery 'tell the old man I'll be back in an hour!' over her shoulder before she turned to her student. "Well, you lucked out. Anko-senpai knows just the thing."
If Sakura thought shopping with Genma was fun, if a bit of an otherworldly experience, shopping with Anko was a nightmare. It took about five minutes for Sakura to start to completely regret the decision to ask the woman for help. Not only did Anko know each and every one of the store clerks, they also all seemed to know her, and Sakura lost count of how many times a shop owner blanched when the tokujo strolled into their shop, then proceeded to throw discounts at her feet that Sakura was sure were at least 50% less than the original value.
Sakura lost track of how many times she sighed and covered her face with her hands, embarrassment and amusement warring within her in equal parts. In the end though, they ended up with a very nice outfit consisting of a pale yellow kimono top, beige pants and an emerald green haori to throw over the top, and Sakura had to admit, it looked good.
She thanked Anko, then made it to the Yamanaka household with five minutes to spare. It was Inoichi who opened the door, and he brightened considerably when he saw her.
"Sakura-chan! I'm so glad you decided to come, come right in!" he smiled warmly then stepped aside, ushering her in. Sakura still knew Ino's house like the back of her hand, but she decided to wait for Inoichi to close the door and lead her inside. When he did and they reached the dining area, Sakura nearly tripped over her feet when she realised that everyone else was already there, sitting at the table. Waiting for her. She saw that a spot had been left for her at the very end, next to who she guessed was Chouji's mother and opposite Shikamaru. Shikamaru, who looked up and sent her a small smirk, seconds before Ino's mom clued into the fact that she'd walked in and twirled over to where the rosette stood with the same grace and dramatic flair she'd passed on to her daughter.
"Oh, Sakura-chan, I was so happy when Inoichi told me he'd invited you! How long has it been since you last visited? It feels like a decade! Oh, I must introduce you to everyone!" even when she was younger, Sakura had been perplexed by the woman's enthusiasm, but she'd been able to handle it and even match it on occasion. Now, she was simply overwhelmed, and could simply nod dumbly when she was led to the head of the table and the Yamanaka matriarch gestured to the adults seated around the table.
Shikamaru's dad, who she learned was called Shikaku, his mom, Yoshino, Chouji's dad, Chouza, and Chouji's mom were all seated around the table, and Sakura made a point to bow and murmur a greeting and an introduction, only to be waved off while Inoichi laughed. "You're still unfailingly polite, I see, Sakura-chan. But you don't need that here. Now go on, sit down, we're about to eat."
Taking the cue for what it was, the rosette padded over to the chair that had been left for her and all but melted into it. Shikamaru noticed and chuckled, then leaned on his folded arms and peered up at her.
"Didn't expect to see you here. It's been a while." He greeted, and Sakura was momentarily thrown by how much she'd missed the brunet.
Still, she hoped the five months that passed with minimal contact had not affected their relationship too much, so she grinned back and replied with a teasing, "Well, I'm too lazy to leave now that I'm sitting down, so you'll have to deal."
Shikamaru snorted and rolled his eyes, "And apparently I'm the lazy one."
"You are though," Sakura teased back, her grin not fading. "I just hide it better. But anyway – how have you been? I'm sorry that I didn't find the time to talk to you before today, I was -!"
But the Nara waved her off. "Sakura, relax. It's fine. I know you were busy; I get it. And I wasn't doing anything overly spectacular – just training, some C-Ranks, shogi with Asuma, clan stuff, the usual. How about you? I know you've been busy, but the stuff I actually heard seems a bit far-fetched."
Curious, Sakura raised an eyebrow. "Like what? What have you heard?"
Shikamaru shrugged. "I don't know, a lot of things. Like the fact that you allegedly work for T&I now." When the rosette didn't respond, Shikamaru sighed dejectedly. "Don't tell me that's the one piece of gossip that is actually true."
Smiling apologetically, Sakura shrugged. "Well, yeah. After that time we met in the hospital, I did my month of D-Ranks, then started training as a medic under Tsunade-sama, then joined T&I as Anko-senpai's apprentice, went on an awful mission then proceeded to drop out of the medic training, so now I'm full-time at T&I till my six months is up." It wasn't until she'd finished speaking that Sakura realised that all the talk around the dinner table had quietened, and Ino was staring at her like she'd seen a ghost.
But Shikamaru was unperturbed and huffed. "Overworking is a thing, woman. You do too much." Then, when Sakura merely stuck her tongue out at him, he sighed. "You still living with Shiranui?" he asked, which also drew an interesting reaction from the adults gathered around the table, but Sakura tried not to pay attention to that and smiled at Shikamaru instead.
"Yeah, I am, though he was sent on a mission yesterday." She admitted, then her attention was drawn to Shikaku who sat three seats over from his son.
"Genma Shiranui?" the Clan Head asked, one scarred eyebrow shooting up.
Shikamaru sighed and mumbled something under his breath, but Sakura ignored him and turned to his dad. "The one and only, Nara-san." She replied with a slight smile, then turned to Chouza. "Which reminds me – correct me if I got this wrong, but you were his genin sensei, weren't you, Akimichi-san?"
Chouza nodded and smiled fondly. "That I did. All three of my students turned into exceptional shinobi, but I'm even happier that they turned into exceptional men. Wouldn't you agree, Sakura-chan?"
The rosette flushed slightly at the honorific but nodded regardless. Then, the conversation separated back into adults and children, with Shikamaru striking up conversation with Chouji while Sakura was left with no other choice but to meet Ino's eyes.
And then, the moment their eyes met, Sakura was transported back to when they were both seven years old, and Ino seemed like the queen of her world and everything she ever aspired to be.
Now, those blue eyes looked at her like a stranger.
"How… how have you been, Ino?" she asked at last, her voice much weaker than she intended.
Ino startled, then tried for a smile, though it fell short. "I, uh, good, yeah. Busy. I mean, not as busy as you, clearly, I don't think any of us were, but yeah. I trained some, looked after the shop, went on missions. I… how about you? Not, y'know, not in regard to missions but how have you been doing? T&I is quite… harsh, and I just… how have you been coping?"
Sakura was surprised, then she felt tears gathering in her eyes. She had been neglecting her friendship with Ino for over three years, and yet the blonde still cared, and cared enough to want the nitty-gritty details and not the generic 'I'm fine'. So Sakura smiled a little tearfully and tried her best.
"I… it's alright, most of the time. Genma is incredibly supportive, Anko can really motivate me, there are these other two chunin, Izumo and Kotetsu, who are just a lot of fun, and Chojuro, who Shikamaru might've told you about. I'm not, y'know, alone or struggling, but there was this one mission a few days ago, it was- really rough. I actually went to your dad – I mean, the therapy building, it was a coincidence that Inoichi-san was my therapist – 'cause I just… couldn't deal. So, it's been good mainly, and even when it's crappy, I have people who help me work it out."
Ino smiled, and there was pity in her eyes but also something that Sakura tentatively identified as happiness. "I'm really glad. Thank you… for telling me. And I know that my dad is good at what he does. If anyone can help you work through whatever it is that last mission caused, it's him." Sakura smiled at the fond look Ino shot at her dad and for the first time in a while felt a stabbing pain in her heart when she thought about her own parents.
Though Genma was amazing, and she often joked that he was like a kaa-san, she missed her own parents with a stabbing sense of urgency. Living with Genma and keeping herself occupied most of the time she sent awake kept her from thinking too much about it, which she knew Inoichi or the tokujo would call a 'poor coping mechanism' were she to admit it, but it was the truth. But now, presented with exactly what she was missing out on, Sakura was almost brought to tears by the fact that she would never have that again.
Ino though, for all her ingenuity and kindness, didn't notice that the rosette was slowly falling apart, and asked; "Also, I meant to ask earlier – why are you living with this 'Genma' person and not your parents?"
Sakura could feel the cold dredges of the panic she often felt waking up from her nightmares and closed her eyes. She doesn't know, she isn't poking fun at you, she is just curious and not trying to hurt you. Come on, count to ten, one, two, three… the rosette coached herself through the breathing exercises Inoichi set her, wilfully ignoring Ino's prodding and worried questions. After about a minute of silence, Sakura opened her eyes and met the blonde's gaze head-on.
"My parents are dead, Ino. They died in the Invasion." She explained curtly, not missing Shikamaru's sharp gaze flickering in her direction nor the sudden silence that fell around the table.
Ino covered her mouth with her hand, horrified. "I-I'm so sorry-!" she started to say, but Sakura cut her off with an only slightly forced smile and a wave of her hand, while her chest filled with warmth at the genuine concern she saw on her old friend's face.
"You didn't know, Ino-chan. It's hardly your fault." She noticed too late that in the midst of her nostalgia, she'd let the old honorific she used to address Ino with slip out, but she found it hard to regret it when Ino's eyes brimmed with tears and a cautious smile bloomed on her face.
Absently, she met Shikamaru's inquiring gaze and her smile became ever so slightly more real at what she saw in the Nara's eyes – the 'are you alright?' was clear as day in the concerned brown pools, and Sakura felt another surge of affection for the brunet. She nodded wordlessly, then her attention was yet again stolen by Shikaku.
"So what are your plans now?" the Clan Head inquired, his keen gaze infinitely more piercing than his son's. "Inoichi tells me you're in T&I at the moment, but do you know what you want after that?"
Sakura pretended to ponder over the question for a few seconds then shrugged with a demure smile. "I'd like to complete my apprenticeship at T&I as I have little over a month left. Then I think I'd like to still stay part-time, but be allowed to take more missions out of the Village to boost up my mission count. Then… I'd like to try for jounin as soon as I'm eligible. Ideally in the next two years." There was a surprised silence once she finished, but while Ino and Chouji, both still genin, were openly gawking, Shikaku merely looked curious.
"Why the rush? We're no longer in wartime – quick rank advancement isn't necessary anymore, nor is it common practice." He prodded, and Sakura saw a shadow of Shikamaru in the man. Or, perhaps more accurately, she knew where Shikamaru got his persistence from.
So she met the man head-on; "I want to be partners with Genma." She stated simply. "He specialises in assassination, but having a partner with whom he regularly takes missions will keep him from being nabbed for the shadow ranks, which will keep him marginally safer. And even if there are dangerous missions as jounin, I plan to be right next to him to patch him up."
Something that looked suspiciously like approval flickered through the Nara Head's eyes, before it was quickly hidden before the impassive façade. "If Shiranui is an assassin, you'd have to be one too in order to be partners with him." he countered, but Sakura merely shrugged.
"Small price to pay." She replied honestly, and that glint resurfaced.
"It might be detrimental to your continued mental wellbeing." The Nara persisted, and Sakura was now almost certain that he was butting heads with her simply to see how she'd react, not because he actually disagreed with what she was saying.
So she humoured him. "I have Konohagakure's best psychologist on my case, as well as a close circle of friends who care for me and would do their utmost to prevent me from going dark. Besides, I know my limits, Shikaku-sama, and I would have no qualms against stopping if I felt it was beyond me."
Inoichi looked proud while Shikaku looked almost self-satisfied. "Best of luck then." And then he turned to Chouza and restarted their conversation as if he hadn't stopped.
Sakura turned to Shikamaru, surprised, but the Nara just smirked and shrugged, as if this was to be expected. With a smile of her own, the rosette just shook her head and struck up conversation about the latest shogi tactic she thought of and asked for Shikamaru's opinion.
Neither of them commented on the fact that Ino was looking at Sakura like she only just saw her for the first time throughout the rest of the dinner.
Overall, the evening was a success, and after the initial awkwardness, the rest progressed with a lot of embarrassing kid stories, mission talk, and general chatter.
A week later, Sakura was in the kitchen, bustling around making diner, when she heard the front door creak open and a thump of something hitting the floor. Flipping the kitchen knife in her hand so she held it like a mock-kunai, she crept out of the kitchen and hesitated just before rounding the corner to the hallway. She tried to seek out the chakra signature, but it was so faint and fluctuating that the rosette frowned, uncertain, even if it seemed familiar.
"Genma?" she called out, but upon receiving no response, she squeezed her eyes shut, then snapped them open and stepped into the hallway, knife held threateningly. The sight that awaited her made her drop the knife with a gasp and fall to her knees – it was indeed Genma, but he looked a right mess, and Sakura's heard ached for him. It seemed like he'd crumbled to the ground the moment he stepped through the threshold – there was a bright red stain on the wall from around waist height down to the shaking ball that was Genma. It took Sakura a moment to realise that the tokujo was in his ANBU uniform, the light grey vest stained a reddish-brown and the armguards smeared with blood. Sakura sent a quick prayer to whoever was listening that it wasn't Genma's blood.
For a moment, she was at a loss – Genma had yet to say anything, his arms were wrapped tightly around his knees which were drawn up to his chest, his face was obscured by his limp hair, and he appeared to be shaking.
She decided the question she had at the tip of her tongue – "Are you alright?" was rather pointless, as it was clear that he wasn't. Steeling herself, the rosette prepared herself to be the adult in this particular situation.
She shuffled closer to the brunet's prone form, slowly as to avoid startling him, her arm outstretched till her hand made contact with his shoulder.
"Genma?" She murmured, but received no response. "Genma, it's me, Sakura. I need you to sit up, okay? Can you do that?" when she received no response, she pushed on his shoulder a little more insistently. "Come on, let's get you up." Lightly nudging his arm, she noted that the brunet wasn't resisting movement, just refusing to initiate it. Decision made, she shifted closer and pulled the man's arm from his knees to rest around her shoulders, while her other hand wrapped around his middle, mindful of any potential wounds she might find there. She straightened up from her crouch and pulled Genma up with her, making sure his legs could support at least some of his weight before she started moving towards the bathroom. "Have a shower, then I'll get you something to eat, then you can sleep or talk about whatever happened, if you want. Does that sound alright?" it didn't hit her until she was standing directly beside him, but Genma absolutely reeked of death and carnage and sweat and blood. She was shaken up by just how shaken up Genma was, but she knew that her freaking out and asking a million questions was the last thing the brunet needed at the moment, so she shoved her worry and curiosity to the very back of her mind for the time being. Instead, she focused on trying to figure out if there was any discernible wound to be found on the tokujo's back. In the end, she nearly gagged at what she found and had to momentarily stop, unwind Genma's arm from her shoulders and lean him against the wall so she could flash through the necessary handsigns. Once her hands were glowing a steady green, her chakra synced with the almost sluggish flow of the brunet's, she pushed up the back of his shirt and pressed her hands against Genma's back, focusing on sealing up the nasty, jagged wound just above his tailbone. She wondered how he'd even been able to run at all, then shoved that thought from her mind lest she either vomit or start crying. When the wound was no longer bleeding and Genma was slumped against the wall, the shaking of his limbs reduced to occasional tremors, Sakura supported him the last few metres to the bathroom, then sat him carefully on the closed laundry basket.
Genma's eyes followed her as she stepped away to start running the bath, adding some of the oils she'd bought on a whim and making sure the temperature was okay. Once she stepped back into Genma's space, she started trying to figure out how the clasps on the ANBU chest armour worked as she didn't think the tokujo was in any sort of state to do that. When she had them open, she smiled at the brunet and poked his arm.
"Arms up, please." She told him, but when all she received was a blank stare, she tried to ignore how it pulled at her heartstrings and instead tried to emulate Tsunade's tone when she spoke to stubborn patients. "Arms. Up." She ordered, feeling guilty for snapping at Genma in this state, but pleasantly surprised when something in his eyes flickered to life and the corner of his mouth twitched the slightest bit upwards, so minute she would've missed it if she hadn't been monitoring his expressions for the slightest sign of life since he'd walked in. Then, slowly but surely, the tokujo raised his arms over his head, and Sakura took the chance to tug off the armour. When she finally managed to chuck the chestpiece into the corner of the bathroom, she moved on to the armguards, then Genma's ninja sandals. She untied the bandages around his thigh then undid the knot of his bandana before she stepped back and gathered all the discarded clothing in her arms to chuck into the wash. Genma was still perched on the laundry basket, clad in his short sleeved turtleneck and black pants, but Sakura hoped the tokujo was back to himself enough to pull those off himself.
"Right, um," she glanced over at the bath, suddenly awkward, then mentally slapped herself. "The bath's ready, I'll bring you some clean clothes and dinner will be ready when you get out." When silence met her words, the rosette took that as her cue to leave. She was half-way out the door when a voice stopped her, "Sakura." She winced – it was still undeniably Genma's voice, she could recognise it anywhere, but it was so hoarse and raw, she had no doubt that even the three syllables of her name must've been agony. Still, she poked her head back into the bathroom and tried for a smile.
"Mmhm?" she murmured, trying to keep her voice as unassuming as possible.
"Thank you."
Sakura's heart warmed and her throat grew tight, so she just nodded and stepped out.
By the time Genma stepped out of the shower – clad in a simple navy shirt and loose black sweatpants Sakura had left by the door to the bathroom – the rosette had dinner ready in bowls on the coffee table and the throw-blanket spread invitingly over the sofa. Genma sat on the couch while she perched on the small pouf, and they ate in silence. When they were done with their meal, Sakura grabbed the bowls, washed them in the sink, then came back, pulled out her book from under the sofa and made herself comfortable on the armchair. Minutes passed with her reading and Genma staring off into space, occasionally staring at her, sometimes just sitting with his eyes closed, until –
"They had me kill children."
Sakura almost jumped at the sudden noise, then the meaning of Genma's words fully registered in her mind and she put her book down, but she didn't speak, too afraid of spooking him.
Genma adamantly refused to meet her eyes when he spoke again. "I've been in this job for longer than you've been alive." He said at last. "When I worked for the Sandaime, when I first got drafted as an assassin, we had a deal: I will do anything, however often, whenever he wants, but I don't want to ever have to kill anyone under the age of ten. Sarutobi respected that. When I then worked under Min- the Yondaime, he respected that too. In fact," here, a twisted mimicry of a grin pulled at Genma's lips, "he did everything in his power to keep me in the Village as often as possible. He didn't think me killing people twice my age at 17 every evening was good for my mental health. Wonder why." He chuckled. "The first few missions I got sent on with the Godaime were fine. I mean, they were a mess with a high death-toll, and it's probably a testament to just how desensitized I am for me to say that it was fine, but it was nothing I haven't done before."
He sighed, closed his eyes and pushed the heels of his palms against them. "This mission… it didn't start bad. They found one of Orochimaru's bases, one with all of his… experiments. The ANBU squad I was with was sent to 'clean it up'. We got there no problem, got in, realised at least half the base was asleep – sweet, easy job, we thought. And then, we split up, and I got to the first cot, and… she couldn't have been older than six." Genma paused, took a deep breath that caught in his throat and formed a strangled sob, but pushed on. "They… the modifications by Orochimaru meant that their system broke down poison five times faster than normal, so we couldn't afford to hope that would get the job done. We… we got explicit orders to decapitate, or grievously maim. I… I couldn't do it. The first five were fine, they were asleep, I could just close my eyes, but then they started waking up. They were… they were monsters, Sakura. I don't know what Orochimaru has been doing, but their chakra level, healing rate, and pure, brute strength is off the charts. And while my eyes were seeing monsters, small, chest-height monsters hardly resembling anything even vaguely human, my mind kept screaming at me that they were children. That I was killing children who had been coerced and kidnapped and tortured and made into something inhuman." He took a shuddering breath. "I've done awful things as a shinobi. I've killed, tortured, stole, destroyed, sold, lied and plundered, but even with all of that, I have never felt worse than I did knowing that I left that cave with the blood of children on my hands and on my blades. I left all my weapons as they lay, I didn't bother trying to pick them up. The way back was mechanical – nobody spoke, then again, hardly anyone dares speak on ANBU missions anyhow. I managed to forget, if only for a few hours, the carnage we left behind."
Genma paused, and, for the first time since he started speaking, he met Sakura's tear-filled eyes. "Then… we got back. My team leader went to report, the rest of us scattered. But it wasn't until I walked through this door and I heard you in the kitchen that I realised… I realised that I spent the night killing your peers. Children your age, most younger, put down with even less dignity than a rabid dog. I… It all came back to me. Overwhelmed me. I'd like to apologise for that, by the way – I haven't disassociated this bad since I was nineteen. I'm… sorry, for freaking you out, and I'm sorry that you had to see that."
Silence fell around them once again, Genma looking apologetic and ashamed while Sakura stared at him in disbelieving, horrified silence, trying to find something to say. Then, deciding words were temporarily insufficient, the rosette threw herself at Genma, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and squeezing tightly, fitting herself into the space between the brunet's side and the sofa's armrest. They stayed like that for a while, Genma's arms eventually coming up to wrap around her as well.
Then, Sakura spoke.
"Don't apologise." And then, even quieter, "If you get a partner… will you be permanently assigned to the Jounin Corps?"
Genma pondered over that, then nodded. "That's what happened when Raidou became my partner. From my twenty-first till my thirty-first birthday, I was only assigned seven ANBU missions. Why? What's on your mind?"
Sakura hid her face in the brunet's shoulder, not wanting to give herself away. "I need your help."
From that day, her days were marked by training with Genma, T&I, meetings with Inoichi, and sporadic letters to and fromChōjūrō. A month later, her official apprenticeship under Anko ended, and she got ten C-Ranks added to her mission record. However, instead of calling it quits, Sakura became a formal T&I member, still staying under Anko's leadership, and chose to focus her study on becoming an interrogator. Now, she only had to be at T&I every other day unless needed for an emergency, so she had far more free time on her hands. Free time which, to nobody's surprise, she spent training with Genma, intent on at least halving the time she initially estimated it would take her to become a jounin.
When asked for tips on teamwork, Izumo and Kotetsu immediately suggested sparring blindfolded, then progressing to 2v2 spars. Sakura had initially rejected the idea, but when the duo had explained that training blind helps you learn how to move with your partner subconsciously and gives you a far better understanding of their fighting style, she was tempted. Her first attempt with Genma was… disastrous. Although Genma was a far better sensor than her, he was still – in Kotetsu's words, who'd insisted on seeing their first attempt – 'absolutely, hilariously awful'. Sakura ended up with bruises in places she didn't even know she could have bruises, she fell flat on her face in the dirt far more times than she was comfortable admitting, and she had scratches on every uncovered piece of skin from the shuriken she'd managed to sense but not soon enough. Genma was marginally better off, far more able at moving blind through years of experience in the field, though the sheer irregularity of Sakura's movements kept him constantly guessing, and Genma himself reckoned he'd have fared better against an actual enemy because 'at least they'd be coming to kill me and not veering off miles to the left and sending a kunai at my ankles'. They decided to try baby-steps and start from individual movements blindfolded, then, after a week, progressed to slow, pair katas, then to slow controlled sparring, and then to a full-out taijutsu one-on-one. Sakura felt a bit guilty at the fact that she was killing two birds with one stone – learning how to work with Genma and improving her taijutsu from the abysmal Academy style at the same time. However, after a month of working blind, Sakura could freely say that she had learnt Genma's preferred attack pattern, the leg he favoured for kicks, the arm he favoured for punches, and how much his drop-kick hurt when it hits in the shoulder.
She also started working seriously on her genjutsu, widening her arsenal from a dozen to over thirty different techniques, some sent over from Mist by Chōjūrō, some which Anko lifted from T&I prisoners, some which Genma managed to persuade a friend of a friend of a friend to hand over, etc. Techniques which she read about were assimilated almost instantly, and she could now recreate not only how a scene looked, but also the various smells that were present, how the bark felt against her skin, how the setting sun momentarily blinded her – all that, she could evoke in those trapped in her illusions. Genma, Kotetsu and Izumo were frequently called upon as her guinea pigs, and she took great pleasure in layering her genjutsus one over the other – especially on Kotetsu – and making the last layer so close to reality that it was almost impossible to discern illusion from the real world. She would then sit back and watch how much stumbling around and bumping into trees and training posts that had no right to be there it took before the raven would realise that he stopped dispelling the illusions one layer too early. She was often in stitches by the end, and Kotetsu would then attempt to tackle her to the ground and either wrestle her into submission or tickle mercilessly until she was properly crying with laughter.
There was just one thing – although she was grateful for the structured, varied instructions to the techniques she was learning, she couldn't help but recall the two situations where textbook illusions had failed her. The taunting, mocking litany from the Forest of Death 'if you truly want to register as a threat next time, you'll need to learn that sometimes, you ought to dig a little deeper, because love can be a thousand times more terrifying than fear itself' and the more recent callout from the caves which still brought her nightmares, albeit more sporadic 'You can't use something so impersonal and hope it'll affect us!' brought out an issue in her style she hadn't even consciously realised was there, and the desire to start working on her own genjutsu grew more and more pronounced with every time she thought about it. She had the bare bones – something personal, yet powerful, easy, yet effective, and in equal terms poignant and terrifying. As much as she hated admitting even to herself that an S-Rank traitor was right, sometimes – just sometimes – fear was not enough. The most seasoned shinobi would've long ago lost their natural response to fear, would've trained themselves to ignore the fight-or-flight instinct and choose 'fight' every time. She needed something that could be her go-to one-hit knockout. Like Sasuke's Chidori or Naruto's Rasengan or Genma's poisoned senbon or Anko's snake Summons, she needed a 'last resort'. Only she had no legendary bloodline limit or bottomless chakra core or tutelage from a Sannin.
So she had to work something out herself.
Yet, as always, there was only one complication – she couldn't ask Genma to let her test a prototype genjutsu on him when she didn't even know whether it would work. She also, for once, didn't really feel up to asking Genma for help, as he would undoubtedly try to tell her that it was far too early in her career to think of inventing her own jutsu. But Sakura was determined. She made notes, thought of how to implement her ideas, combined her medical studies with what she'd learned under Anko, and then, just when she was itching to see whether her theories worked, Heaven smiled down on her in the form of Anko knocking enthusiastically on her door.
"Kid, get your ass to T&I! I've got something I think you might like!" her senpai greeted, but Sakura was wiser than to trust Anko's judgement of what she 'might like'.
"What is it, senpai?" she asked instead, still firmly planted on her doorstep. Anko's grin dimmed slightly and she mock-pouted.
"God, you're no fun. What happened to the cute chunin from a few months ago who would've jumped at this and kissed my feet?" she demanded, glaring at the rosette though without any real heat.
At that, Sakura couldn't help her grin. "She realised you were insane?" she offered teasingly, ducking the hand that flew at her head with a laugh. "I'm kidding, but really, is it a mission?"
"Better," Anko promised, her eyes sparkling, her annoyance temporarily forgotten, "I managed to convince Ibiki to let you have a crack at one of the prisoners. He's been with us for a while and I think we've got almost everything out of him, but Ibiki, the paranoid ass, thinks he's still hiding something. So, you might get your ten minutes of fame if you can get it out of him~!" she sang with a mad grin, and Sakura tried to stop a similar expression from taking over her own face:
This was perfect.
Inoichi stood in the Hokage's office, summoned to report on the latest developments in the Intelligence Division, and then, once that was out of the way, asked about his latest patient.
"How's the little diplomat doing? Heard she's signed up for therapy recently." Tsunade asked off-handedly, and both Shizune and Inoichi glanced at each other, equally surprised.
"She's showing progress, Tsunade-sama." He replied cautiously. "She says the nightmares are less frequent and she's learning to compartmentalize, which is good."
Tsunade tapped her heel on the floor, one corner of her lips twitching up wryly.
"Still determined to be an assassin?" she asked, at which Inoichi nodded grudgingly.
"Unfortunately so." He admitted grudgingly, not at all understanding why someone as sweet as the rosette he knew would willingly want that profession.
Tsunade sighed, then levelled him with a flat stare. "Is she mission ready?" she demanded.
Inoichi winced. "She's much better but I would still like to monitor her regularly to make sure the PTSD and Survivor's Guilt doesn't worsen-"
"Yamanaka, simple question: is. She. Mission. Ready?" Tsunade repeated, punctuating each word with a tap of her manicured nail on the desk, hairline fractures showing up on the lacquered wood.
The Yamanaka Head shut his eyes and took a deep breath, then swiftly separated 'Sakura-chan' from 'Patient 24601' in his mind. When he opened his eyes, his face was blank, his voice detached. "Patient Haruno has shown significant improvement over the last month and a half and is likely to make full recovery in a few weeks. The nightmares and panic attacks are, as of two weeks ago, scarce." Then, feeling like he was driving the last nail into the coffin and hammering it in, he finished; "Haruno Sakura is mission ready, Tsunade-sama."
The smile that spread on Tsunade's face was grim, but her eyes were full of regret.
"Perfect."
there u have it! hope u enjoyed, and as always, leave a comment, tell me what u thought, and feel free to nitpick or correct me if I got something wrong~ till next time!